


Get Crazy Way

by guava



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Multi, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2118975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guava/pseuds/guava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots based on the "15 Pairings" prompts posted on Livejournal. The pairing and prompt featured will be stated in the Chapter Titles. </p><p>Latest Update (8/14/14): inconsequential/unconsensual—Miwa/Ren</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Show some respect!”—Akari/Misaki

The legend of Tokura Misaki, ‘Boss Lady’ of Miyagi High School, did not begin from her infamous long skirt. The truth of her false reputation had nothing to do with her apparel and everything to do with her friendship with Yotsue Akari—a friendship that began on one afternoon when Akari narrowly avoided a reunion with an actual high school ‘Boss Lady’.

The last time Akari had crossed the female delinquent was back in their last days of junior high when the latter had challenged Akari with her fists. Akari gladly threw down with her. When news of their fight spread around town afterwards, Akari accepted her consequential disqualification from the annual Jujitsu competition and suspension from her martial arts school with great equanimity. Perhaps she would have been more regretful if she hadn’t succeeded in ensuring that her opponent wouldn’t—or more accurately, _couldn’t_ —take revenge on her even if she wanted, at least until graduation.

In the interim between the junior high graduation and entering high school, Akari was allowed to resume her studies at her school. She obtained another belt and grew out her short hair until she could twist it into her eventual trademark braided bun. She entered the next Jujitsu competition and had to withdraw prematurely, not because of misconduct but due to a fractured ankle attained in the early rounds.

It was this injury that made Akari wary of even making eye contact with her former enemy. There she was, smoking and chatting with other girls of her ilk in the open field which also served as a shortcut to Akari’s home. Akari didn’t even consider that she should have taken a safer route and only thought, ‘Come on, why don’t these people stay in school?’

Though her appearance had changed significantly, Akari doubted that the female delinquent would easily forget someone who had broken her jaw before. Akari pondered over her options and it occurred to her that a decoy was necessary, someone conspicuous to draw the collective attention of the group of belligerent girls and whose presence would render herself insignificant. And thank _Kami-sama_ , just as she had worked out her impromptu strategy, a tall girl with short hair and wearing the same uniform walked past directly in front of her. Akari smiled to herself and soon caught up with the girl who would hopefully be her new friend.

“Hello, I see that we are wearing the same uniform.” Akari said, stating the obvious.

It was not a particularly good ice breaker, but at least she wouldn’t give off a threatening vibe. Miyaji High was a good school where delinquency was rare, but if the girl was the rare bad egg, perhaps Akari could create a fortunate misunderstanding that she was currying favour in order to join the girl’s gang and would hence let Akari walk with her.

The girl turned briefly at Akari before staring straight ahead once more. “Yes, we are,” she replied.

Before the girl could ask if they knew each other, Akari hurriedly asked, “So where are you going?”

“Card Capital,” the girl replied, Akari’s swiftness apparently catching her off-guard such that there was no time for the possibility that Akari was a stalker to cross her mind.

“Sounds like a cool place,” Akari said, not exactly lying. “I’ll go with you.”

And that was how Akari safely navigated her way through the minefield of cigarette smoke and the town’s Under 18 Most Dangerous Females, with the help of one Tokura Misaki. Even when they were no longer within the view of Akari’s former enemy, Akari decided to see through her strategy in obtaining a new girl friend and requested for Misaki’s customer service in introducing her to the popular trading card games promoted by Card Capital.

Card games eventually proved too mentally taxing for the physically oriented Akari, but Misaki’s talent for them impressed Akari such that she voluntarily hung out in the shop as Misaki’s companion. She usually just stood against the counter while Misaki sat behind the cash register to watch the customers.

One season after their meeting, Akari watched Misaki waste a shoplifter at Vanguard and helped her to call the police.

“Hey, Misaki,” Akari said, once the police had taken away the handcuffed criminals. “You’re now officially one of our town’s Under 18 Most Dangerous Females.”

“That’s such a weird compliment,” Misaki remarked.

For the next few hours, the two were extra vigilant in monitoring the proceedings within the shop.

“Don’t you think that I’m like your security guard?” Akari said.

“I doubt that you would even qualify as one.” Misaki sighed. It was a sigh that Akari had grown to be familiar with, signifying, ‘Will I ever understand what’s going on in your mind?’

“I’m more than qualified,” Akari replied. “Did you know, I actually have a black belt in Jujitsu.”

“You do?” Misaki said, unceremoniously taking a step backwards as if expecting Akari to strike her. It was a common enough response, but Misaki nonetheless noticed her tactlessness as guilt flashed across her face. She was about to say something to Akari, but stopped as her mind abruptly switched tracks of thoughts. In the next moment, Akari noticed the mild annoyance that had surfaced upon Misaki’s countenance.

“Wait…could it be that your strength, along with walking around school with me every day, has misled the entire Miyaji High to think that you’re subordinate?” Misaki said. “And that I’m your… ‘Boss Lady’?”

“It doesn’t matter, since you are the real Boss Lady of this place.” Akari said, pointedly looking around at the inside of Card Capital.

Misaki was about to protest and predictably assert that she was only a helper whereas her Uncle (who was away on a business trip then) was the actual owner, when she was stunned to silence as she found Akari’s hand placed upon her own.

When a few seconds had passed, Misaki said, “A subordinate would not do that.” She then covered Akari’s knuckles with the palm of her other hand; a decidedly non-delinquent gesture.

“All right. You’re not a Boss Lady and I’m not your subordinate.” Akari conceded.

She barely caught the smirk that Misaki had directed at her amidst the shop’s utter silence. The meaning behind it was clear, yet remained unvoiced due to Misaki’s inner ‘Boss Lady’;  which nevertheless existed despite the calm and collected persona that Misaki had adopted.  

In the end, it was sufficient for Akari to mentally translate Misaki’s subtle hint into words: ‘I’m glad to hear that, friend.’


	2. (11) inconsequential/unconsensual—Miwa/Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could be read as a College AU.

Miwa knew that he was making out with an exceptionally attractive man though he couldn’t really see the face of the man he was kissing. That was part of the point of these public, night time hook-ups, which was to obscure the identities of all persons concerned and be generous enough to regard the other person as a worthy mystery.

Maybe it was still too early in the night for the man to have chosen a sex partner, but usually his type would spend his time grinding against the patrons of the club which he found acceptable as part of his preliminary selection. Instead, he had taken the initiative to pull Miwa by the elbow away from the bar, simultaneously and strategically leading Miwa by tempting him with the ass in his tight jeans.

The man who had grabbed hold of him and dragged him out of the club was tall, slim and kissed as if he had unleashed a highly trained lizard inside Miwa’s mouth. At first, Miwa instinctively found his style a little gross, then found it borderline evasive and soon enough found that it aroused him more than the typical encounter with a stranger would.

After successfully accommodating his kisses to fit his partner’s rhythm, Miwa allowed his mind to wonder and speculate why this beauty had chosen him for the night. Miwa was a modest man; modest in the sense that he was able to assess his own attributes in a realistic fashion. He understood what kind of attractive he was—the kind of attractive that was synonymous with ‘safeness’; with an impression that he was competent enough to feel one up and thus a guarantee that one would not be embarrassed in being seen felt up by him.

Miwa ought to stop over-thinking the man’s motivation for choosing him as _his_ man for the night. A more worthwhile endeavour would be getting down to giving them both what they wanted. He slid his palm, which had been lightly caressing the man’s neck, down his chest in order to tug meaningfully at the man’s belt.

Then the man grabbed hold of his hand and distanced his face away from Miwa’s.

“Surprise, it’s me,” the man said.

“You who?” Miwa said and forced a laugh to keep the atmosphere light-hearted.

“I know you want to continue, but I think it’s best you really know who I am before you do.” The man explained himself. “Just in case.”

“What’s the worst you can be? A celebrity, a revolutionary or perhaps a hot prodigy?” Miwa continued to joke without removing his hands from the man’s body. “If you need to know you can trust me, then we can always be friends first.”

“You really have no idea.” The man said and flashed a shady smirk. “Come with me.”

Again, he pulled Miwa away by the elbow, this time towards the streetlamp illuminating the front of the club. Miwa’s eyes widened upon properly seeing the man’s face. Yes, he was still as exceptionally attractive as Miwa had assumed him to be. The salient problem was that he was Suzugamori Ren, Kai Toshiki’s long-standing Vanguard rival and former lover.

“What’s up, Ren,” Miwa sighed.

Ren’s reveal had killed his mood to find someone to spend the night with. Afterwards, he would probably have to resort to nurse a pint of beer while reminding himself that it would be bad form to be intimate with his best friend’s ex, especially an ex that said best friend continued to have an unhealthy attachment to.

“I thought it would be a good idea. I’ve always thought that you’d be a good kisser.” Ren said. “We aren’t going to continue, are we?”

“I’ll pass,” Miwa replied. “And am I? A good kisser?”

“I’ll answer that another time.” Ren said. “Let’s go in and have a drink.”

“Sure. I’ll treat you,” Miwa said.

He had no justification for spending money on Ren, but then again, habits when being alone with men like him were hard to break.

They entered the noisy club once more and headed straight for the bar. The other patrons shifted to make room for them and once Miwa was comfortably standing, Ren leaned against him such that their clothed hips bumped against each other.

“Master, a beer, please,” Miwa hollered at the bartender.

“One Gin and Tonic,” Ren followed suit.

Miwa was about to make more conversation when Ren reached over the counter to pick up an uncapped ballpoint pen. Without any warning and hesitation, he pulled Miwa by the collar closer to him so he could write on the patch of skin above Miwa’s collar bone.

“What are you doing?” Miwa asked, trying to bat away Ren’s hand to curb the ticklish sensation of the moving pen.

“One moment,” Ren said, digging the pen’s nib harder into Miwa’s skin as he concentrated on his task. “There, that’s my number. In case you reconsider.”

Ren flung the pen back over the counter and skimmed the tip of his fingers lightly over where the pen had been. Miwa inched away as much as he could.

“That’s highly unlikely,” Miwa said. “I always consider Kai first.”

“You always do.” Ren said, employing a matter-of-fact tone. “Huh. I hope that’s legible by the time you next look into a mirror.”

That was the last thing he said to Miwa for the night. When the bartender returned with their drinks, Ren just swiped his glass away before making his exit as he slithered into the crowd on the dance floor.

Miwa gulped down a third of his beer and laughed to himself, this time out of genuine amusement. Truly, he was surrounded by too many dramatic men. He laughed again and subconsciously raised his hand to rub at the spot where Ren had written down his digits.

‘He expects me to call, but I won’t. At least not for the reasons he wants me too.’ Miwa thought.

He would continue to repeat this thought throughout the night, on his way home and lying in his bed, up until the sun rose to signal the next day.


End file.
